


Soldier Trials

by virtuous_contract



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, Fluff and Angst, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Laboratories, M/M, Medical Examination, Medical Inaccuracies, Medical Kink, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Mentor/Protégé, Power Imbalance, Sad and Beautiful, Shinra Company, Warning: Hojo (Compilation of FFVII), Whump, Zangeal - Freeform, dub-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29060793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtuous_contract/pseuds/virtuous_contract
Summary: It was time for Zack to take the SOLDIER trials.He'd always imagined them like something out of a video game. A test he had to overcome. Even though Angeal had taken him in early to help prepare for them as much as he could, nothing could have prepared him for Hojo and the labs. The only mitigating circumstance was that Angeal was allowed to stay with him through all of it.An attempt to medkink with some nice of hurt/comfort feels.
Relationships: Zack Fair/Angeal Hewley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Soldier Trials

**Author's Note:**

> This was accidentally prompted by [ Iciseria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iciseria/pseuds/Iciseria). And really, I'm only human. How could I pass up on writing such delicious hurt/comfort for one of my favourite pairings?
> 
> * It has not been betaed. I'll work over it with grammarly when I have time and feel like it.
> 
> * Let me know if this needs to be broken into chapters and where that would be suitable.
> 
> WARNINGS: I'd say this is a pretty explicit fic, but I don't feel like any of the ao3 warnings apply. It's not exactly rape. Though Zack would probably be underage in canon, I'm sure many of us age him up in our heads. I'm certainly not emphasising anything about his age. For all the kinky shit I'm into, age-difference (or size difference, or difference in general) is not really generally my thing. Let me know if you have objections and I will change ratings and tags accordingly.

Zack was pacing the living room in Angeal’s apartment, waiting for Angeal to pick him up and escort him down to the labs. He hadn’t lived there for long, and technically he wasn’t supposed to move in before he got accepted into the SOLDIER program. Angeal had been so kind though, and offered him to let him move in early to prepare for the trails. Well, tests were perhaps more accurate.

The memory of being called into Angeal’s office where they were first formally introduced to one another played over and over in his mind. He reminded himself of the joy when Angeal had told him he’d been recommended for the SOLDIER program, despite his young age. For the millionth time, he evaluated how he felt about these last two weeks, staying with Angeal.

The feeling of care and safety that he’d quietly been lulled into by Angeal’s understated but constant attention, - he made himself hold on to that. It helped keep the nerves at bay.

He remembered the serious conversation he’d had with Angeal, about the trials specifically. How somber Angeal had seemed, how heavy his voice had become. It had frightened him, and he supposed that was intentional, seeing as it was the only time he’d been even remotely afraid of Angeal. Or, not Angeal perhaps, but the choice of joining SOLDIER. There had been a moment during that conversation where he wondered if Angeal had hoped to talk him out of it.

But that would never happen in a million years. It had been his dream for as long as he could remember. It had been so strong it had rubbed off on his family, and eventually the whole village. He’d never forget the feast they’d put up to send him off to Shinra’s cadet program, which was where everyone started out. It was another of his happiest memories, and he thought about it often. It helped him stay on track.

Besides, now that he knew more of what to expect about life as Angeal’s ward, he wanted it even more. It was embarrassing, but Angeal had been his least favorite First Class. His, like everyone else’s, had been Sephiroth first and foremost. Even though he still hadn’t had the opportunity to meet Sephiroth, he was fairly sure his priorities had changed.

Angeal’s quiet, steady presence and instruction seemed like the perfect counterweight to his own, still quite fitful energy. He was aware of it himself, but until he’d met Angeal, he’d never understood how to reign it in, even it out and focus it.

That process, he realized, had started the second they met; the very first second, he’d looked into Angeal’s warm hazel eyes. Looking into them had been like stepping through a door or being taken into an unseen fold. He didn’t fully understand what it meant yet, but he knew he was exactly where he wanted to be.

So, he had to make the trials, he simply had to. Angeal hadn’t been allowed to tell him what they were, only that they were necessary to make sure that anyone who made SOLDIER would be able to handle the challenges that came with the job, both physical and mental. Zack had been given training sessions after his shifts in the gym. Breathing, relaxation and even meditational exercises which he found awful, but did to the best of his abilities anyway.

And Angeal had cooked for him. Three simple, well balanced, delicious meals a day. He’d been sent off to his shifts with a lunch box and snacks every day. It seemed unfathomable that someone would put so much attention into his wellbeing and success, and he was humbled by it every day. Every day he thought of ways to repay it, but if he brought it up in conversation, Angeal just brushed it off with a reserved chuckle that unsettled something in Zack. It sounded almost remorseful.

His thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the keycard which sent a nervous shiver down his spine.

“Zack?” Angeal called softly as soon as he stepped in through the door.

“Yup,” Zack replied, rolled his shoulders and stepped into the hallway to make his way down to the labs. Angeal greeted him with a pale smile that did nothing to settle his nerves.

“Are you ready? Remember that you can ask me to step in or out of the room as you like.”

“Sure. Gods Angeal, you’re making me nervous. Is it really that bad?”

“You know I’m not at liberty to discuss the details. You should be well prepared with the breathing exercises. We can talk more after.”

“Okay.”

Zack pulled his boots on, and then they were off, walking the long, monotonous hallways of the Shinra building towards the elevators. Angeal kept a soft hand between Zack’s shoulder blades, which was unusual. Zack pondered the meaning of it. Some of the ease he quickly had come to expect from Angeal was missing. He was definitely nervous about something. When the elevator reached the sixty-fifth floor, Zack quickly pressed for the doors to close again, hindering them from stepping out of it.

“Angeal, are you worried that I’m going to fail? Is that why you’re nervous? Because you’re making me nervous.”

Angeal sighed and positioned himself in front of Zack, putting heavy hands on Zack’s shoulders, looking into those intense, open, blue eyes. “No, I’m not worried about that.”

Zack let the warm, open concern that now poured from Angeal wash over him. “Okay then. I’m ok then.”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

Zack thought there was something left unsaid, but he didn’t have a chance to press the matter. Angeal pushed the button for opening the doors, and then he softly ushered Zack out.

“Come on.”

Angeal kept himself half a step behind, and Zack wondered if he was hiding. Angeal hiding? But all that mattered was passing the tests. He had no plan B if this wouldn’t work out. Making SOLDIER was his everything.

The hallway they entered into was more starkly lit than the other floors he’d been on. It had plastic floors, and awful, oppressing, structured wallpaper. He’d never really been in this kind of environment before. There was no hospital in Gongaga, and he’d never been ill enough to warrant medical attention. There was an unfamiliar odor hanging in the air, which stung his nose. It wasn’t awful, but he thought it’d make him nauseous if exposed to it for too long.

Angeal steered him down a corridor, and Zack slowed his steps just a hint, to feel Angeal’s hand just a little firmer on his back. Suddenly he was very glad that he wasn’t here alone. The barren corridors were intimidating. The littered medical equipment scattered around the halls didn’t help. Some looked like torture devices.

They sat down next to each other in two uncomfortably hard chairs in a small, empty waiting room to wait for someone to meet them.

“How come you’re allowed in with me? Isn’t that ‘cheating’?” Zack asked quietly, sliding his hands under his thighs not to fidget.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps it’s considered wise to ask for support if you think you’ll need it. Even soldiers can’t do everything alone.”

Zack hummed and stared at the wall opposite him. There was no art hanging on the walls like there had been in the hospitals in the movies. Just a few stacked cartons that seemed both in and out of place where they stood in the corner.

Time was moving at a snail’s pace. There was no clock on the wall, and he had no clock of his own. The only clock was on Angeal’s wrist, so he lifted Angeal’s arm to have a look. The clock was 15 past 9 am. They’d been made to wait fifteen minutes already.

“It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” Angeal gently pried Zack’s hand off in a hesitant movement, giving Zack’s hand a little squeeze before letting it go. Zack’s eyes flicked to Angeal in wonder, and then he gave a little huff in frustration.

It was another twenty minutes of nervous waiting before someone finally came to get them. She had brown hair in a strict topknot, wore a white coat, functional shoes, and carried a clipboard.

“Zack Fair?” the woman called in an impassive voice.

“Yes.” Zack found it odd that she called out for him. There was literally no one else there.

“I’m assistant Toyo. Follow me please.” Zack noticed she was already making notes. To what, he couldn’t possibly imagine.

They trailed after her into an examination room which was both larger and more well equipped than the basic examination room he was expecting. There was a surgical table in the middle of the room with alarming, protruding accessories that made Zack cringe inwardly. Along one wall was another medical bed. There was something that looked like a tubular glass cage, clearly large enough to fit a human body. He didn’t particularly like the look of that either.

Furthermore, there were trolleys with racks of tools that looked absolutely intimidating beyond reason. Arrays of knives, prongs, clamps and awls and worse; saws. He nervously glanced up at Angeal and was met with a somewhat weak but reassuring smile.

“You can sit there.” She gestured to the two chairs across the desk that Zack honestly hadn’t even noticed up until that point. All the other gleaming metal in the room was distracting him, and the bright light made him blink.

A chair on wheels rolled up behind the multiple screens on the desk, and in it sat a scrawny looking older man. He had his hair in a long, greasy looking ponytail. Stray strands fell into his face, and Zack wondered if they didn’t stain the man’s glasses.

He might have looked handsome in his youth, but now his hairline had crept too high and only accentuated the deeply sunken eyes and fine lines in skin that looked clammy. There was something harrowed in his face, but not in a way that roused compassion or empathy. In an unsettling way. Zack felt instantly repulsed by him.

“I’m professor Hojo, in charge of the research division of Shinra. I see you’re an applicant for the SOLDIER program, yes?” Hojo said it as if it was the most boring thing he’d ever said in his life. He didn’t bother to look at Zack, or Angeal for that matter.

Zack took a breath to answer, but he didn’t get a chance. Instead, Hojo went on.

“Undress.”

Zack’s eyes shot to Angeal in shock. The weak smile he’d seen a minute ago had turned into a troubled grimace, full of apologies. At once, Zack reigned in his surprise, keen to not distress or embarrass Angeal by being disorderly.

“Where can I put my clothes?”

The assistant looked at Zack as if his question was highly unusual. “You can just put them on the chair that you’re sitting on.”

Angeal gracefully backed his chair away from Zack, giving him a little space to undress. And Zack did. He thought they’d sit and talk for a little, maybe ask about why he wanted to make SOLDIER. That was the sort of thing he’d expected. He did his best to convince himself that undressing in front of others was the same as undressing alone. His fumbling fingers seemed to disagree. He left his underwear on.

“Come here.” Hojo rolled his eyes, got up, and led them to an adjacent room, Angeal being the last to follow.

The room had strange spaces that looked like workstations of some sort, but he decided not to try to work out what they were for. There was also a wall with showers, hoses and a couple of bathtubs.

Hojo pulled up a trolley and picked up circular patches that he attached to Zack. He presumed they were for monitoring his condition. They felt cold, and Hojo’s touch uncomfortable. Patches went on his chest, down the sides of his spine, arms, and in a neat row around his forehead.

“We like to begin with a simple stress test. No point in doing the rest if you’re not shock tolerant enough.”

Okay, that made sense, Zack thought. Though it felt bitterly sudden.

“Get in the tub.” Hojo nodded towards one of the tubs at the far end of the room.

As Zack walked up to it he saw it was filled with water and ice. Angeal was right next to him, a hand on his shoulder. He tried to keep his thoughts off his near-nakedness.

“It’s okay,” Angeal said, and he sounded certain of himself.

That was enough for Zack. He braced himself with a deep breath and stepped into the tub, letting it out on a hiss, just like Angeal and he had practiced. It didn’t stop his heart from racing, but at least he didn’t faint or anything.

“Submerge as much as you can, otherwise we’ll have to do it again.” Hojo said, entirely lacking any concern.

The cold water was awful. Zack never liked the cold. He expected he’d hate it even more from this point on. It took all that he had to not lose control of his breathing. The first thirty seconds or so were alright, and then the pain came creeping in. It was most noticeable in his hands and feet, and it was of a sort he’d never experienced before.

It was like being stabbed by a million little needles, making the pain seem constant. Stabbed, and frozen in time, everywhere at once. It intensified up his arms and legs, and after one minute it had settled in his chest. He was shivering violently and had to struggle to keep control of his breathing.

The pain in his chest was warping, beating against his ribs like a trapped animal. It was manifesting as an acute pressure that threatened to crush his ribcage. Another handful of seconds after that, it felt like Shiva herself had a hold on his heart and tried to crush it.

“Zack, you have to breathe.”

Zack flung his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them. Angeal appeared as a dark blob to his left, in the middle of the stark white light that was the rest of the room.

“I know that it’s awful, and even though you’re scared, you’re safe. You can still breathe.”

Somewhere in the room a machine started beeping, He had trouble focusing his eyes, but he did his best to focus on Angeal’s voice. It seemed terribly far away, and he felt an odd delay between hearing the words and understanding them.

He made his mouth open, and called for his muscles to pull in air. It felt wrong, because the pain had changed again. Strangely enough it felt burning. Actually, he’d never been on fire, but the kind of sensation he was feeling now sure could have fooled him. His body screamed at him that it would get worse if he moved. He just wanted to stay still, but he had promised himself to do what Angeal asked of him. So, he did.

He managed a few more breaths before the glaring white turned into bright red, and then black. The last thought he had was that he was dying.

Next thing he knew, the dark but unmistakable contour of Angeal was floating above him, and he remembered the sensation of burning. It burned now too, but in a brighter way. He’d never felt such overwhelming pain before, so he did the only thing that he could. He tried to scream and grasped after something of Angeal’s form, but he couldn’t make his hands move. His voice failed him, and all that left his mouth was hissing air.

As soon he touched what he assumed was Angeal’s arm, the sensory feedback was dull and wrong. Besides, his hands felt so unyielding and weak, as if they’d shatter, so he yanked them back and tried to scream for that too. He selfishly wished to be back in that calm blackness he’d been wrapped in seconds ago.

“Sshh, Zack, this is a part of the test too.” Zack could hear Angeal’s voice ring in his ears, echoing painfully. He realized Angeal was spraying him from a showerhead. The ice had mostly melted. He couldn’t have been in there for that long, could he?

“That’s it, you’re doing fine.” Zack heard the soothing comfort.

The burning still burned, but his eyes could focus, and he started helplessly into Angeal’s face, which was steady and calm, his smile brighter than the ones he’d been given before they’d stepped into the lab. In the back of his mind, he took note that Angeal was a good actor.

“As soon as it’s over you’ll get a cure and you’ll feel better.”

Zack tried to nod, unsure of whether it could be distinguished from his violent shivers or not.

“Why?” Zack whispered, directing the question to Angeal.

Angeal asked the professor, “May I tell him?”

Zack thought it seemed out of order that Angeal would have to ask for permission. Logically, he understood it. Practically, he didn’t like the look of it at all.

“Go ahead.” Hojo croaked from somewhere in the room.

“When we take magical damage, especially from elemental magic, we still feel it. We may heal quickly, and it takes a lot to kill us, but we still have to… function if we take hits.”

Zack’s face twisted with concentration, trying to string the separate words together into something comprehensible. After some time, he managed. Why hadn’t he ever thought of that before? He’d literally never thought about that, even though he’d seen plenty of footage of SOLDIER’s on the news causing or taking elemental damage.

He knew that unenhanced people could wield materia as well, and he’d known even a low-level fire hit could leave large scars for life. He’d just… never thought of the implications it made for a SOLDIER. He’d need to talk about that more later with Angeal.

“Did I pass?” He turned his head to look for Hojo, but the movement caused his field of vision to shrink. Then he felt a large hand cupping the back of his head.

“Easy Zack. It’s not done yet.” Angeal instructed quietly.

“You did, boy. You can get up as soon as you’re able to. Angeal, get him ready for the next part in five minutes.”

As soon as Hojo had finished the sentence, green light flooded the room. Zack sighed in relief which was so immediate and overwhelming that pleasureful shivers exploded out all over his body. The first cure of his life took the edge off his pain and tension, leaving his skin feeling several sizes too small from the most outrageous goosebumps.

“Fifteen. Make yourself a cup of coffee, professor.” Angeal suggested with obvious disgust.

“Fine. Ten.”

Hojo and his assistant left the room, quietly chatting about something that Zack couldn’t care less about.

“W-Was that t-the worst?” Zack asked with teeth still chattering, as soon as they were alone in the room. He wouldn’t know what he’d do if Angeal said no. He thought he’d asked a pretty simple question, so when the reply took time, his heart sank.

“I d-don’t know if I can d-do this Angeal, if it w-wasn’t. I t-thought I d-died there.” He whispered desperately, while searching Angeal’s eyes that seemed Hazel now, not brown like before. They appeared absolutely flooded with guilt, and to add to that impression, Angeal averted his gaze.

“I… I don’t know how to answer that Zack. What’s worst differs for different people. It was probably the most painful thing for today.”

“T-Today?” Zack echoed hollowly and hissed as Angeal raised the temperature of the shower a little bit more.

“Yes, but you’ll never be as unprepared again. I suppose that for today, being unprepared is the point.”

“G-Gaia,” Zack groaned in complaint. He took a deeper breath, willing his body to stop shivering. He didn’t actually feel all that cold anymore. The cure had helped a lot.

“Everyone goes through this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then, so can I.” Zack sighed and tried clenching and opening his fist. It was stiff but completely doable.

“Give that to me.” Zack gestured towards the showerhead, and Angeal passed it over. Zack raised the temperature as much as he could bear, and then steeled himself, directing the water towards his own body. It felt like he’d never get properly warm again.

He shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was endearing anyway to see how Angeal relaxed with relief that he seemed to be recovering well.

“Hey Angeal, thanks for being here.”

“Please, it’s nothing. And it’s not over yet.”

“How long do we have left?”

Angeal glanced at his wristwatch. “Three minutes.”

“Is there a towel somewhere?”

Angeal looked surprised, as if he’d forgotten that Zack was wet and nearly naked. He chuckled at himself looking around, finding a towel in one of the cabinets. He returned just in time to help steady Zack as he stepped out of the tub on shaky legs.

“Thanks.” Zack grinned, doing his best to forget the terrible time he’d just had. It was already in the past. He’d passed, meaning he was still on the right track. It was all good.

Angeal helped dry him off. The towel felt like a grater against his skin. When done, Zack draped the towel around his waist, over the wet underwear. They walked back to the first room, Angeal trailing behind by half a step. Zack chose not to check what kind of expression Angeal was wearing this time.

“Ah, good!” Hojo exclaimed from his wheeled desk chair. He rolled himself along with a trolley closer to the center of his room and pointed in front of himself. Zack thought it was strangely childish to see a professional man roll around like that. Perhaps it was one of the most fun things one could do in a lab though. He did not want to be in a lab.

“Start the questionnaire, will you?” Hojo directed at Toyo.

Hojo started to pose Zack, taking measurements with a non-medical looking measuring tape. It was awkward, and he didn’t like the man touching him, but it wasn’t so bad. He looked at the trolley, and it did seem to be full of different types of measuring equipment. There were several strange-looking prongs with scales on them.

“Name?” Toyo started, with the same tone dripping of boredom that Hojo apparently favoured. They seemed well suited to work together, Zack scoffed in his head.

“Zackary Fair.”

Then followed questions about things like his family’s medical history, his own medical history, questions about any soreness or discomfort or recent bodily changes. Those questions were fine, and besides, they kept him distracted from the professors’ constant pulling, prodding and measuring. He was measuring the thickness of the joints of his fingers now.

“How many sexual partners have you had?” Toyo asked him, exactly as uninterested as she’d been about his parent’s blood pressure. Still, the quick shift of topic threw Zack off. A quick glance thankfully told him Angeal seemed entirely immersed in his PHS.

“Uuh, three.” Zack felt heat rising up his neck, even though he still felt a chill clinging to his bones.

Hojo stood up and got a large set of prongs that apparently were for measuring his head. He thought that was only done in horror movies!

“And during the last year?”

“Huh?” Zack had lost track.

“How many sexual partners have you had in the last year?”

“Two.”

“Which method of contraception have you been using?”

“Contraception?” Zack swallowed hard. He hadn’t realized that his sexual history had been relevant for Shinra. Then again, he had read something about his reproductive capabilities on the consent forms he’d signed. Angeal had told him very sternly to read every letter, and he’d tried, really tried. It had just been so boring.

“To not get your partners pregnant?” Toyo clarified impatiently and glared at Zack as if he was dumb as spawn.

Zack swallowed again, trying desperately to wet his rapidly drying mouth. He hadn’t told Angeal yet. He hadn’t particularly planned on telling anyone. Dating hadn’t been high on his priority list since he left Gongaga.

“There was no need. I’ve only slept with men.”

“Oh.” Toyo raised a sole eyebrow but kept jotting down notes without pause. Then she aggressively crossed over a whole section on the form. Zack looked towards Angeal again but saw no change. He wasn’t ashamed or anything. He just didn’t want his orientation to affect anything between the two of them.

“How often do you use condoms with oral sex?”

“What?” Zack felt his brain freeze from another unexpected question. Just because Angeal didn’t look like he was listening it didn’t mean-.

“Condoms. You know what condoms are, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Never. I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

Toyo’s face morphed to mild disgust, while she wrote her next set of notes.

“And how often do you use condoms with anal sex?”

“Uh, never.” The heat rose to his face and clammed up his palms. In fact, he felt himself break out in a cold sweat. He shot another nervous glance towards Angeal.

“Do you want him to leave?” Hojo asked impatiently, gesturing towards Angeal, having noticed Zack’s preoccupation with his hopefully-to-be mentor.

Zack felt a droplet of water or sweat uncomfortably trickle down his back. He wanted to know what was coming after this, but the impatient atmosphere kept him from asking. As it was, he didn’t want to risk the trouble of sending Angeal off and then getting him back in case it was anything like the ice tub.

“It’s fine.” Zack said quietly while he felt another uncomfortable chill move through him.

“Have you ever had any sexually transmitted diseases?”

“Not that I know.”

“Have you ever been tested?”

Zack felt his eyes grow wide, marveling at his own stupidity. He knew of STD’s of course, but he’d never really considered the possibility of him catching one. It seemed beyond stupid when asked this directly. It made him want to explain to Angeal, to apologise, even though it had nothing to do with Angeal of course. All of it made him feel like he deserved being looked at like garbage, which incidentally Toyo and Hojo were both doing.

“No.”

He felt even dumber when the follow up questions about his sexual partners’ histories were asked. It really put his carelessness into perspective. Why on earth had he thought he’d done things responsibly?! Clearly, he was a disaster. He did not feel better when Hojo unceremoniously yanked the towel off his waist and started measuring his waist and hips, and whatever else he was doing.

“Have you ever injected drugs?”

“No!” Zack couldn’t help sounding offended as he replied. This one he hadn’t gotten wrong, but it still felt like he was being accused.

“They’re routine questions, Fair.” Hojo told him, sounding thoroughly unimpressed.

“Of course. I’m sorry,” he directed the apology to Toyo, who didn’t bat an eyelash.

“How many glasses of alcohol have you had this past week?”

“Uhh…” Zack felt his posture shrivel. “Three.”

He wasn’t supposed to have had any, but he’d squeezed in a quick round to the theatre district with Kunsel, a third class SOLDIER who he’d befriended almost as soon as he’d joined the infantry. It made his chest sting with guilt for having disobeyed Angeal’s strict dietary directions. Angeal who’d worked so hard to plan and make all those meals for him.

“Fine. Have you ever had sex while under the influence of sex or alcohol?”

It was not a fine feeling talking about sex when Hojo was nudging his legs apart, apparently to measure his legs, thighs and something about his knees. It felt thoroughly bizarre. He had to constantly focus to not flinch from the unwelcome touches. He’d never so repulsed by someone’s touch before. Usually he liked it, even from strangers. It helped him connect.

“Yes.”

“Since you joined Shinra?”

Oh gods, not that he’d actively avoided it, but he felt incredibly relieved to be able to say ‘no’ to that question. He swore to himself to go home and read the Shinra employee handbook more carefully again if he passed the tests. When he passed them, he corrected himself in an effort to try to stay strong and collected.

Just then, he felt Hojo hooking his fingers into the waistband of his wet boxers and tugging them down. Zack reflexively stepped back with a choked breath, almost tripping over his own feet.

“What are you doing?” To Zack’s dismay his voice barely carried the question, making him feel even more pathetic and exposed.

“I’m measuring, my boy.”

Zack didn’t know what he wanted to protest more, the measuring itself or being called ‘my boy’ from the mouth of that slimy creep of a human being.

“Do you really have to?”

“Me or her. You can choose. Usually I do it, as it tends to get disadvantageous results when she does it. Perhaps with your inclination you’d prefer her after all?” The professor’s tone changed to a dripping, disgusting smugness that made Zack’s mouth drop open.

Did the professor really imply what he thought he did? The idea was too repulsive to even follow it to its conclusion. As if he’d ever, ever be able to get any sort of reaction to him.

“Fine,” Zack replied and used the fury he felt to step within the professor’s reach again, if only to prove him wrong.

He looked over to Angeal, finding the burly man hunched over his PHS just like before. Perhaps there was a little frown on his face now that hadn’t been there before. But with the angle he was standing at and one of the vilest human beings Zack had met touching his genitals, it was hard to tell.

“Have you ever had sex when you didn’t want to?”

Zack had to bite his lips not to spit ‘No, but this sure is the closest I’ve ever gotten.’ Her expectant look shook him out of it.

“No.” As soon as he’d said it, Zack noticed Angeal shifting in his chair. A new wave of unsettled chills moved through him. It felt like being haunted, like a ghost moving through him or something, and he begged silently for Angeal not to look over.

“When did you last ejaculate?”

“What?” Zack’s focus snapped back to Toyo.

“Your last ejaculation?”

“Uuh.” Zack felt as if his brain lost touch with his mouth.

In his mind his last training session at the gym with Angeal played out like something of a romcom-montage. Angeal spotting him, smiling, his warm sweat dripping down on him. He’d made up some lame excuse to shower up in the apartment just so he could close the door and indulge in replaying that over and over in his head while touching himself. It had been a good session. Very good.

He hadn’t thought much about it then. He’d enjoyed thoughts like that about people around him before. Now, with Angeal sitting in the room, he saw it in a wholly different light.

“If Hewley’s presence keeps distracting you boy, I’ll have to ask him to leave.”

“The day before yesterday.”

“Evening, morning or day?”

Shit. Shit, shit shit shit. He pressed his palms to the outside of his thighs, but they were immediately lifted away by Hojo, who had his face uncomfortably near his groin area while he was bending forward in his wheely chair to measure his shins.

“Evening,” Zack said with his voice cracking. “Can I have some water?”

Toyo made her last notes aggressively on the form she was filling before flipping it to the back of the clipboard. She put it down and busied herself with pulling fresh paper over the surgical table.

“Later. Hop on the table, boy.”

“What’s going to happen now?” Zack squeaked pathetically. Why would they deny him water? He could see cups on the sink.

“Samples,” was all the reply Hojo gave him.

Hojo patted the surgery table impatiently, and Zack hesitantly sat himself on it. The paper crinkled uncomfortably under Zack’s naked skin, threatening to rip, and that made him cringe. It made him not want to put his weight on the table fully, but it was too high for him not to, and he felt like a child with his feet dangling in the air.

“Don’t I get one of those paper dresses or something?” Zack mumbled.

“You’re not exactly a patient, are you? No point in wasting resources.” Hojo scoffed.

Zack felt like he was shrinking, something he was decidedly not used to. Perhaps that was why he’d disliked Hojo from the very start. There was something dismissive in the way he looked at others. A little less so when he looked at the assistant, but he’d hardly acknowledged Angeal’s presence either. Zack found it deeply unsettling.

“Could you, Toyo?” Hojo rolled yet another trolley forward, full of vials, straps and unbroken containers full of gods know what.

“Of course, professor.”

She began with fastening a wide cuff around Zack’s arm which was pumped up until he felt the blood flow stifled. It wasn’t painful, but wildly uncomfortable. Then it drained suddenly, and that too, felt strange.

“BP 115 over 75.” She spoke, and Hojo took notes. Zack found her touches slightly less repulsive, but instead they seemed to repulse her. She gave every impression of keeping them to the bare minimum, and that was discomfort in a different way. It made him feel disgusting, wrong and dirty.

“Heart rate 59.” Hojo jotted the number down on his pad, and then sat into his chair and rolled it back under his desk to clack on his keyboard.

“Excellent. Do the blood.”

“I’ve never been pricked by a needle before,” Zack said, hesitatingly, debating whether it was a good idea or not to disclose this fact.

“Do you have a habit of fainting?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Alright then.” She gave the ugliest, forced smile he’d ever seen. Why’d she even bother if it was that much trouble?

She attached a strap around his arm with that awkward minimum-touching, strapped some gloves on, and swabbed the crook of his arm with alcohol. The needle she pulled out of its package seemed much too large, and he could feel his pulse rising.

“Try to relax.”

He had no idea how he could, but he took another deep breath and let it out slowly, creating resistance with his lips. It made a silly sound, but it was what Angeal had taught him, which made him feel better. She looked at him as if he was pathetic, but Angeal’s opinion of him weighed much more heavily, so it was easy enough to ignore.

The prick of breaking skin was short, but then she started digging around inside his arm with the needle. It was deeply jarring. He lost his breath to a helpless whimper and felt himself jerk.

Toyo huffed impatiently and withdrew the needle. It wasn’t bleeding, which he found odd. “I think you’re a bit nervous. We’ll have to do it again.”

Of course, it was worse the second time, but at least the needle seemed to hit its mark. Zack watched as the tube grotesquely slid into his vein. He could see it causing a rise under the skin, and it made him nauseous. It made him think of his body differently, as if it was weak and frail all of a sudden. Not the impenetrable fortress of strength, or the source of joy he was used to.

He whimpered embarrassingly when she attached the first vial to the needle. The sight of dark red liquid flushing out from it was quite fascinating despite his discomfort. It flowed with such force. He found that easier to stomach than the change of vials, and there were a lot of vials.

After countless minutes and a tray full of vials Zack felt himself fading, so he took a moment to close his eyes.

Next thing he knew, there was jostling all around him. Strong arms were squeezing his shoulders.

“He said he doesn’t faint easily,” Toyo said in blatant irritation. Hojo merely clicked his tongue in annoyance, and Angeal kept him upright.

“’m sorry. I’m a bit dizzy.” He leaned into Angeal’s arms. They felt good and solid. This was the best he’d felt since he came into the damned labs. Perhaps he could just stay there with his eyes closed.

“It’s ok Zack. You’re ok. Have this.” Angeal mumbled softly.

Zack heard the rustle of a wrapping paper, and then something was put to his lips. He parted them carefully to taste it with the tip of his tongue. With a sudden burst of greed, he slipped it inside his mouth. A simple lozenge that tasted of nothing but sugar melted on his mouth. He drifted on that flavour, further away from the labs. The pad of a thumb brushed sugar off his lips and then stroked his cheek.

It was unexpectedly sensual, and he was jerked back to reality along with the jerk of his damned cock. He still wasn’t gone enough to completely forget his nakedness. He looked down at his lap and was met by some flimsy green sheet looking like a layer of cotton stuck on a layer of plastic. Thank the gods, Angeal must have covered him. He stirred uncomfortably, and the damned paper under him finally ripped. Was he getting the table dirty now? Contaminating it? Was it contaminating him? The thoughts made his skin crawl.

A knock came on a door that Zack hadn’t noticed earlier, and a rather young man in a white coat stepped into the room to fetch the vials of blood. He didn’t even spare him a glance.

What was with these people in the labs?! At least that must have meant the bloodwork was done for now. He noticed that the needle had been taped down on his arm, so something more was apparently going to be done with it.

“You can lay him down now.” Hojo said when the new man had stepped out of the room. “On his side, please.”

Angeal gave Zack an apologetic smile, hooked an arm behind his knees and one under his arms and lifted Zack up before he was gently put down on the table on his side.

“Knees to chest please,” Hojo said before turning to Toyo. ”Prepare the scope.”

Zack hesitantly drew his knees up higher, feeling uncomfortably exposed as he did so.

For a moment, Angeal hovered by the table, but then he turned as if to walk away. Before he knew what he was doing, Zack had grabbed Angeal’s arm with a breathless “No!”

“Alright, alright. Let me get a chair.”

Before Angeal had a chance to sit down again Toyo was rolling up a trolley with a machine and a monitor to the table. Behind him Hojo was fidgeting with something that looked like a long hose. Next thing he knew Hojo was touching him there with a slickened finger, against his opening. It made him gasp with surprise and utter humiliation, and he could feel all of him tensing up in protest.

He wanted to ask for Hojo to stop. Or for an explanation of what was being done, what was going to happen next at least. Before he had a chance, he realized the tip of the scope had a camera attached. It was going straight to his opening, and was carelessly pushed past it. He could see it happen in horrible, horrible details on the monitor. He’d never expected to see that part of himself with such detail. It was the most humiliating experience in his life.

On top of that, the sensation felt incredibly wrong. Nothing was supposed to go in there. It was a place for things to exit, unless… unless the situation was completely different. It felt like an incredible violation, and he couldn’t keep himself from whimpering pathetically.

It felt like something was being taken from him. Perhaps it was his integrity, his dignity, his humanity, his privacy. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, which was disturbing considering how bereaved it made him feel. His virginity, a foul voice sounding remarkably like professor Hojo’s, echoed in the corner of his mind. He could feel his face twist from it.

Angeal sat down in front of him, mouthing a quiet ‘I’m sorry’. It made Zack feel incredibly guilty, but he was so grateful for Angeal being there now. The only thing worse than getting fed something up his backside by Hojo would be being alone while it happened. So he shook his head to Angeal, even though he could feel how more and more of the scope was being pushed into him without any regard for his comfort.

On the monitor he could see his pink insides parting for the scope until the camera reached what looked like a dead end. The insides looked more purplish there, almost blue. Perhaps this was it? Were they done?

He could hear something like metal scraping against metal, and then Hojo was twisting the scope, jabbing it forward in a way that caused his stomach to cramp up with stabbing pains. He flinched, gasping for air while the world blurred.

“Ssh, Zack, you’ll be alright.”

Zack could hear Angeal’s chair catching on the floor as he shifted closer. He blindly reached a hand in front of him, hoping that Angeal would understand, and he did. There was no hesitation at all in the hand that gripped his. Only a generous squeeze.

He could hear Hojo and Toyo talking, but he couldn’t focus enough to understand the words. Gloved hands were on his hips now, tugging for him to move, and he tried to follow their guidance. Every movement jabbed his insides. It felt like the scope would puncture them, the way that Hojo manipulated it. They looked fragile on the monitor. Full of superficial little veins.

Thick tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he felt panic welling up in his chest. It was too much. More of the scope was being fed into him now. The resistance seemed to have lessened. He could feel it catching in him, but Hojo mercilessly shoved the unnatural presence deeper.

“Zack, you need to breathe now. Like we practiced.”

Instead of his breath leaving him like breathing exercises, they left in pained moans, because another curve had been reached. His instinct was to curl into himself, but that only made the cramps worse.

Hojo or Toyo was tugging him again, and then there were unwelcome hands pressing on his stomach. They were moving him as if he was a lifeless ragdoll, and that made everything feel so much worse. It was entirely dehumanizing.

“Show me what you’ve learned,” Angeal’s voice was more demanding now. A firm pressure to his hand underlined the words.

Zack whined helplessly and brought Angeal’s hand to his forehead. On an unsteady breath, he pulled in air, and tried his best to release it steadily. It didn’t come out as still or organized as during their practice, but it moved him away from hyperventilating.

“Good, do it again,” Angeal encouraged.

He could hear snide remarks being exchanged somewhere above him, and the scope was twisted, pulled only to be shoved deeper. He focused on Angeal’s voice, and the way Angeal’s knuckles felt between his eyebrows. He rubbed them in there, harder, as someone was pushing him against the table and the scope being shoved so hard, he couldn’t stop a choked scream.

Then something happened. It felt like something burst in his stomach, the way the pain bloomed in it, but instead of screaming, he started laughing. It was a desperate sort of laughter, and completely unstoppable. Quick words were exchanged above him, and suddenly the scope was being pulled out of him. It just kept coming and coming.

The sensation blended the boundaries of inside and outside, because gods, nothing that long should surely have fit inside him?! He felt his system being flooded with endorphins, curiously bringing unexpected relief, almost pleasure, mixing into the rampant pain.

“Is he alright?” he could hear Angeal ask.

Angeal, Angeal, sweet Angeal. He dragged Angeal’s hand down from his forehead, clumsily prying it open and putting it against his cheek. He thought his insides were rupturing, because something was tugging in his stomach now, tearing mercilessly at his insides, in the midst of an all-consuming pain. It radiated into unrelated parts of his body, making even the smallest breath near-impossible. He thought he was dying for the second time that day, but it was different from the tub. Wild, unstructured and chaotic.

At least Angeal was there. He wouldn’t die alone. He could hear him conversing tersely with the other’s in the room, but the loudness of his beating heart made it unintelligible. There was movement around the room.

Angeal withdrew his hands only gently scoop Zack off of the operating table entirely and into his lap. The movements made Zack wail with panic, but as soon as he was still again, the worst of the pain subsided.

“Zack, what you’re feeling now is a probe moving through your system, collecting samples. I know it’s painful, but it’s not dangerous. You’ll be alright.”

Angeal’s voice felt like little bursts of white in a world full of black and red. He managed to move his arm from the way it had been awkwardly trapped between their bodies. Moving it reminded him of his nakedness, and a new wave of shame blended with the horrible sensations from his guts.

“’M sorry,” he slurred into Angeal’s knit top, pressing his face into it, hiding.

“Ssh, you have nothing to be sorry about,” Angeal murmured and held Zack a little closer.

Zack had a hard time believing that. He for one, was sorry for just about everything. The way he was pathetically whining and flinching, naked in the arms of his mentor-to-be. For the rapidly crumbling idea of what he thought joining SOLDIER and Shinra would be like. For how stupid he’d been for having such childish ideas about it all.

It all seemed ridiculous, and while tears were still running down his cheeks, making wet stains on Angeal’s top, another derailed laughter tore up from his chest. Every convulsion sent violent stabs through his guts, and had him panting. Only Angeal’s solid arms around him and the gentle stroking of his hair was left to keep him together.

To mitigate the humiliation Zack did his best to breathe deeper, to get control. He tried to imagine the pain as a red mass. He imagined encapsulating it and moving it away from him, just like he’d practiced with Angeal. At first it seemed impossible and meaningless, but he kept trying. Time moved slowly, and it seemed like he had an eternity to perfect the meditation.

Eventually, he managed to get to a point where he could see the payoff. It didn’t lessen the pain, but it did make it seem less dangerous. Less intrusive. He found that his breathing became easier with the exercise, and the grip he had on Angeal’s top loosened.

“How long?” he mumbled tiredly.

“About an hour or so.”

“’Kay.” He wasn’t sure how Angeal had interpreted the question, but he couldn’t care. It meant no more than an hour left, either way. One hour, and then it would be over.

He contemplated asking if this was the last of the tests but decided it was better not to know. It meant less worry about the next one.

As his ability to focus on the world returned and the first thing he noticed was the lubricant of his opening smearing Angeal’s fatigues. He groaned, falling down an endless pit of shame. It made the questioning he’d been subjected to earlier seem like a walk in the park. He would have told them as much as they wanted, if it could have spared him from this.

“’m so sorry Ang. ‘So disgustin’.” Zack slurred hopelessly. If he had more energy, he would have kept apologising.

He could feel Angeal sigh, Angeal’s breath blown into his damp hair, cooling his scalp and causing his skin to tighten around his body.

“Hojo and his assistant are disgusting, and so are the tests. You, however, are not.”

Zack groaned in disbelief. He’d never felt so disgusted or disgusting in all his life. It was so bad, he was almost grateful that he was in so much pain. At least it occupied most of his awareness, keeping him from dwelling too much on how degrading it all had been.

“I mean it Zack. There is nothing you could do to make me think that you’re disgusting. I’m sorry you have to go through this.”

Instead of taking Angeal’s words to heart, Zack noticed the imagery on the monitor. On it he could see a tunnel of curious coral red, lined with fuzzy walls that were pulsing and moving rhythmically. Of course the probe would have cameras.

“That’s me?” Zack mumbled.

It took Angeal a second to figure out what Zack was referring to. “Yes.”

Zack stared at the moving frames. It was hard to believe that he was looking at a part of himself. It seemed too abstract. At the same time the dull, confused pain interjected with sharp stabs told him another story. Again he felt his mind bend with the knowledge that his body was not impenetrable or invulnerable at all. Those red walls looked incredibly frail. How could they possibly have taken all the junk he’d eaten throughout the years?

Before he had a chance to think about it more, he felt a particularly strange pressure in his stomach, acutely distracting him from the visual on his insides. Then all pain subsided for a blessed handful of seconds, only to return with revenge and the most violent nausea he’d ever felt. It made him desperately cling to Angeal’s shirt, trying to hold back the retching that crept up his chest.

“Is it time?” Angeal asked, full of concern.

Zack tried to nod, but as he did the nausea intensified. A violent spasm started deep down in his stomach and worked his way up, shifting the probe higher up his throat. It was a horrible feeling, something like tickling the back of his throat, but too deep, and blocking his windpipes, but not entirely.

“Let it come. Don’t worry, just let it come. You can spit it into my hand.”

Angeal helped Zack to sit up and bend forward, and Zack did his best to let the spasms take him. His every fibre wanted to protest, but the only way out was to get this over as fast as possible.

One of Angeal’s hands came to rest loosely over his mouth. It should have felt suffocating, but instead Zack found it oddly comforting. He retched as if he was going to puke, but only stringy, bitter spittle came. It dribbled disgustingly over Angeal’s hand. He could feel the probe gripping the linings of his throat before the final convulsion let him cough up the metal ball. It crashed heavily into his teeth before he managed to spit it into Angeal’s lovely, much too kind hand.

“Ssh, you did so well. Well done, Zack.” Angeal repeated softly over and over again, his arms gently wrapping around Zack’s shivering frame.

Desperate sobs were cried into Angeal’s top, giving away a jumbled mixture of shock, pain, humiliation and relief. Only when the sobs were turned to snivels did Angeal scramble Zack into his arms to stand up. He put the probe in a kidney-shaped metal tray and carried Zack into the room with the showers.

He got another couple of towels and put Zack gently down to sit on one of the work-space tables that seemed eerily sized to fit a human body. He covered Zack’s lap with one towel and started wiping the stray saliva from his face and chest with the other.

“I’m so sorry Ang,” Zack mumbled in utter defeat.

“Please, Zack, stop that. I wouldn’t be here unless I wanted to be here.”

“I’m disgusting. I fucking puked on you!”

Angeal put the towel down to gently take Zack’s face in his hands and tilt it up.

“I am a soldier. I wade in guts and blood for a living. This is nothing. I’m honoured to be here. You made a choice to be here in the labs today, and so did I.”

Zack blinked slowly, feeling the force of Angeal’s intense sincerity. It worked on his limbs like gravity. He raised his arms to place them around Angeal’s neck, and parted his legs to make space. The gratitude he felt was overwhelming, and everything but expressing it seemed unimportant.

It made him pull himself closer. It made him clumsily slip off the table to press the whole length of his sore body against Angeal. He hid his face in the SOLDIER-issued high collar to hide from the uncertainty with which Angeal responded. He could feel it in the arms around him, but then it faded, and they blissfully wrapped around him tighter.

“Thank you Angeal.” Even as Zack was forming the words, he felt something in his chest nagging at him, telling him they were not enough. As if they were the wrong ones. For a split second he scrambled for something more to say, but found nothing and settled on repeating his thanks instead.

Angeal just shushed him softly and rocked him ever so carefully from side to side. It was already everything he needed, so when he felt Angeal’s lips press against his hair and heard the smallest little kissing sound he didn’t know what to do with himself. There was no room left to feel better.

Just then the doors flung open, revealing Hojo in the doorway. He eyed the two with enmity and suspicion.

“Get him back in here,” he tersely addressed Angeal before he turned on his heel, slamming the door behind him.

Even with Hojo’s interrupting it took the two a little time to get their bearings and disentangle themselves from each other. It took for the towel that had been draped over Zack’s lap to drop to the floor before either of them got flustered.

“Okay,” Zack almost whispered as Angeal stepped away, giving him room to pick the towel up again. Bending over made him grunt like an old man. It felt like someone had beat him up from the inside. It was strange and disconcerting. It made him feel incredibly weak.

He fastened the towel awkwardly around his hips, wondering how much more of Hojo’s abuse he could take. And what would happen if he reached his limits? What would he even do?

Angeal held the door open for him, and every step towards that surgery table felt like walking towards doom. There were new attachments to it now at the short end. A hard lump of anxiety formed deep in his stomach as he realised they were stirrups.

“On the table, Fair.”

Everything about Hojo seemed to be seething. Zack managed to walk up to the table, but not to get on top of it. Not until Angeal was there offering his hands for support. It was a small, silly thing, but Angeal’s help made it possible to get up on the table without ripping the paper.

The towel slipped off him, and immediately his eyes shot to Angeal’s hazel pools with an apology. Angeal merely pursed his lips and cocked his head lightly, rendering it inconsequential. For now, Zack had to agree. The ship of modesty had sailed.

Hojo rolled on his chair to the short end of the table and somehow adjusted it to make it shorter, making the whole table vibrate with loud metallic bangs. “Legs up,” he said and gestured towards the stirrups.

Even though Zack wanted nothing but to jump off the table and into Angeal’s arms again, he clumsily obeyed.

“What’s…” Zack had to swallow. Lifting his legs into the stirrups rendered his mouth dry as a desert. Humiliation and dread about exposing himself to such a vile being as professor Hojo was a living nightmare. It was simply out of this world.

He tried forming his question again. Angeal was doing something by the sink. Zack found even that distance too long between them. “What’s going to happen now?”

“Semen sample,” was the curt reply Hojo gave.

Zack couldn’t protest what he couldn’t understand, and what was happening was simply beyond comprehension. He just half-lay there, mouth gaping, with his upper body propped up on his elbows, unable to relax enough to lie completely down.

Angeal pulled his chair up by his side and handed him a cup of water. Zack took it in a daze and felt the blessed liquid wet his mouth and sore throat. It tasted like fear and bile. He let his worries fill his eyes and then he desperately stabbed them into Angeal.

“Tell me what you need.” Angeal’s voice came across weary and guilt ridden.

Zack silently handed the cup back, swallowing to keep the lump of anxiety under control. He had to swallow twice more before he could speak.

“Stay.”

Hojo slapped a pair of gloves on. Zack thought he could see a flash of smug satisfaction as Hojo took the bottle clearly marked ‘lubricant’ from Toyo. He didn’t want to see more, so he squeezed his eyes shut, desperately wondering what to think to prepare himself for the touch that was surely only seconds away.

“Relax,” Hojo said in a way that almost impressed Zack with how much self-satisfaction those two syllables could fit.

Then he could feel Hojo on him, but not where he had expected. For a semen sample he’d assumed he’d be touched on his penis, not his opening. He flinched with a gasp, jerking away from it, but of course Hojo followed him, reminding him that he had nowhere to go.

“We could restrain you if you’d prefer,” Hojo said, as if he was offering a platter of cookies.

“Give him a second,” Angeal spat sourly.

“It’s fine,” Zack mumbled, clumsily forcing himself to lie down on the table.

The damned paper ripped below his elbow. Though it was entirely irrational he could feel himself tearing up from it. He squeezed his eyes together harder and gripped the top of his thighs with his hands, letting his fingers dig in to distract from Hojo’s disgusting touch.

“May I raise the backrest?” Angeal asked.

Zack didn’t hear an answer, but the table jerked and buzzed, and then his upper body was angled up along with the back portion of the table. It felt almost heavenly to be curled in on himself without straining his muscles. It made him feel a little a little bit more protected, even though Hojo was still applying pressure to his opening.

He was sure something in him would break when Hojo breached him. He could feel the battle of wills being played out over the most private place of his body and he tried desperately to reconcile himself with losing.

“Zack…” Angeal’s voice drifted to him like a gentle breeze, “may I take your hand?”

The grating of his hairs against the surgical paper sawed in his ears when he nodded. Still, Angeal had to pry his hand off his thigh. He could feel the gentle but firm comfort being pressed into him by both of Angeal’s hands. It helped. It helped a lot, because he could resign to that, and so he did.

It was a quiet affair, the way he felt himself break when the tip of Hojo’s finger slid inside.

From a distance he could hear Hojo comment on the condition of his external anal sphincter. He assumed he was giving dictation to Toyo.

Inside him, everything was raging, fracturing, becoming disjoined. He wished he could have hidden it, but tears made their way out even though his eyes were closed. Quiet sobs accompanied them. He hoped Hojo’s dictation stopped him from noticing at least. That Angeal would know wasn’t nearly as bad.

“Sssh, Zack, you’ll be ok,” Angeal mumbled quietly and stroked over Zack’s knuckles.

He could hear the hollowness of Angeal’s reassurance, but what else was there to say? It wasn’t the words that brought him a sliver of comfort, it was that Angeal was there anyway.

“The mucus membranes seem to be in excellent condition,” Hojo said, taking liberties with Zack’s personal integrity in so many ways.

Zack’s stomach turned when he realised Hojo would continue describing ‘the procedure’ as it was being done. It made him feel impossibly exposed, like there was no skin left. He wished it had been anyone but Hojo. Hadn’t Hojo said that Toyo often did these things?

He remembered the look of disgust on Hojo as he’d walked in on Angeal cleaning him up. It had looked almost like hatred. Could it be that Hojo was doing it on purpose? Did he know how utterly repulsive he was? Was he using it to make all of this worse? If so, why?

He felt Hojo prod around his sore insides him as if looking for something. Everywhere Hojo touched felt like it got contaminated. He hoped those places would rot away, so at least he’d go numb. A harsh stab made him jerk. It was painful, but it also sent warm black sparks into his hips and stomach. It made him gasp with surprise.

“Excellent response to stimulation of the prostate.”

He’d thought he couldn’t possibly get more disgusted with Hojo, but the glimmer of blatant sadism in his voice proved him wrong. He didn’t want this. Didn’t want anything that felt good from such a vile man.

“It’s perfectly normal. It’s just a physical response.” Angeal’s words sounded like an apology. He must have been so easy to read.

Zack focused on it, and it helped. It helped that he felt understood and seen. When Hojo’s hand finally came to grip his still soft length, he didn’t flinch.

Angeal was kneading his wrist now, and carefully following up his lower arm. Massaging, distracting, trying to melt the tension in the one place that he had access to. There were fleeting moments when Hojo’s stroking him synced up with the way Angeal was touching his arm. It made the sensations blend curiously.

“Ang…” he whispered in confusion. Was he supposed to feel like that? Was he allowed to? It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

“Ssh, it’s alright. You’re alright.”

Did Angeal even know what he was sanctioning? He didn’t know, but it had happened, and he found the imagery invasively flooding him. The idea that it wasn’t Hojo, it was Angeal. Angeal’s loving touch on him, around him, inside him. The thoughts made his arm burn where Angeal held it.

And the imagery was so powerful. It took him and carried him away towards previously unknown heights of arousal, and it was terrifying. The smell of disinfectant still stung his nose. The lights above the table stung him even through his eyelids and he could taste his own bile on every single breath. He was panicking.

The hand jobs, the one single blowjob, the frottage, and the times he'd had sex on the giving end had felt nothing like this. Not in a single way were the sensations in his body recognisable. His muscles were contracting in his entire body in a way that didn’t make sense to him. He wasn’t doing it. It happened on its own.

“Zack?” Angeal’s hands were sliding down his arm to take his hand between his own.

Zack couldn’t speak. Didn’t know how to explain what was happening to him. All that came was a distinctly desperate “Ahh”. He didn’t recognise the sound he made either. He thought he could hear Hojo snicker somewhere in the background, but he didn’t understand why.

The panic made him tug on Angeal’s arm until Angeal got the drift and stood up. He cracked his eyes open just enough to see where to place his hand to make Angeal turn away from him.

He’d reached some sort of limit. Couldn’t let himself be seen anymore. He’d been seen too closely through too many unknowns for one day, and this one was by far the worst. Angeal shifted his weight to step away from the table, clearly interpreting the gestures as Zack wanting him to leave.

“No!” Zack shouted and managed to hook his fingers into Angeal’s back pocket. He pulled on it until Angeal sighed in confusion and settled with his weight against the table.

Zack twisted his body uncomfortably so that he could lean his forehead against Angeal’s back. He could hear Hojo snort, but he wasn’t told to stop, so he went ahead and did what he felt like.

With graceless, shivering limbs he reached around Angeal, pressing himself closer as much as his awkward position allowed him. He wished he could press his chest against Angeal’s back because it ached so much. It felt as if there was a hollow place in it, raw, bleeding and empty.

He could feel Angeal sigh, and then Angeal’s hand clasping securely over his arms. The small gesture sent an unexpected spike of pleasure through him, causing him to groan into Angeal’s top. He thought Angeal would be repulsed, but instead he could feel Angeal’s thumbs stroking calmly over his arms.

It helped him put aside his newfound knowledge that pleasure could feel bad. He’d deal with that later. For now, he focused on the warmth that bled into him through Angeal’s back. He directed his straining breaths into that poor standard issue knit that stretched beautifully over Angeal’s broad back, and when he spasmed, he held onto Angeal for dear life.

And with the smallest of gestures, Angeal held him right back. It turned his rampant breaths into grateful sobs, because at least he had Angeal.

To have Angeal.

The thought hit him like a sledgehammer. Even with its nonspecific nature it caused him to moan loudly, and he desperately tried to muffle the sound by pressing his mouth into Angeal’s back. It sounded wet and sticky, staying in the air, joining the desperately embarrassing, wet sounds that Hojo was causing.

He could feel tension building up towards something in his body, but he didn’t dare stop fighting it. It felt too strong already, like a current that was taking him further and further away from shore.

“Ang,” he sobbed in a stuttering, bitter plea, hoping that Angeal would magically somehow read his mind and help him.

Angeal took a new grip on his hand and rotated it, so that the inside of his wrist faced upwards. He felt the tip of a finger placed on it, and then the tickling sensation as it drew a shape into his skin. It reminded him of his playmates in school. There was a brief period where writing things into the skin was all the rage. Angeal was going to write him a message? Why? He was right there.

The gentle sensation was wonderful, just the right amount of ticklish. It was a most welcome contrast to the impersonal, bordering on rough treatment Hojo was subjecting him to.

The first shape was a simple soft curve, open end towards the writing direction, his hand. A ‘c’. The touch distracted him, focused his attention. The reassuring squeeze to his hand radiated warmth up his arm and through his body. He trusted Angeal. Expected the message to be important.

The second shape was another soft one, a deep half-moon shape with its open end facing upwards. A ‘u’. It made his brain race. It made his heart beat like a drum. It made him salivate. It made him prepare. He had suspicions, but he could be wrong. What if he wasn’t? What else could it be? His breaths turned heaving with anticipation, and he blew them all into Angeal’s faded, black knit.

“Bring me the sample cup please.” Hojo’s voice drifted through the room but didn’t make it all the way to Zack’s ears.

The third letter was being drawn into his skin. This one was angular. The first part like a spearhead, facing upwards and oh dear gods of Gaia. It was outrageous, vulgar, absolutely wrong, but at the same time succinct, undeniable and crystal clear.

It was a command from his commanding officer, and he’d vowed to himself to do anything that Angeal asked of him, regardless. He let the word Angeal had written into him sink into his blood. The powerful, encouraging squeeze that Angeal gave his hand sent the command rushing towards his heart. From there it got scattered and spread until it filled him. It gave him permission.

With his next drawing breath it was as if his body collapsed in on himself, and with the next one it exploded. It hurt, the way Hojo forced his erection in the direction of the cup, and the way the cup scraped against him. Still, his release tore through him in waves of both pleasure and misery in equal parts. He screamed in confusion into Angeal’s back. The dull flavour of detergent mingled with that of bile.

His only anchor was the way that Angeal pressed his arms into his stomach, holding him there, accepting his need for this closeness. He was still in shock when Angeal spoke.

“Take five.”

He could hear Hojo rolling his chair and the clinking of a trolley, the snapping of gloves. There must have been an attempt to argue against him because when Angeal spoke next, the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“There is only the injection left, yes?”

“Yes,” Hojo scoffed.

Pairs of feet were walking in the room, but Zack kept his eyes on Angeal’s back.

“Get the mako. Take five.”

A door opened and closed, and Angeal sighed in relief. Angeal turned towards him, careful not to let his eyes drift anywhere but his face, even as Zack struggled his legs out of the stirrups.

“Are you okay?” Angeal asked, with a softness that was startling.

Zack had never seen the atmosphere around someone shift so dramatically or so quickly. Of course he wasn’t okay, but the concern in Angeal’s eyes was so wild he couldn’t make himself say so. Instead, he hesitantly put his hand on Angeal’s arm. Angeal’s face fell, making him look as if his heart was literally breaking.

Angeal only needed the tiniest of tugs on his arm to cave in and scoop Zack into his arms. The embrace was like a band-aid on all of him, because Zack certainly felt like all of him was bleeding. He had no idea it was even possible to feel so stripped down, so unmade, so defenseless. It was impossible to keep it all in, and it came out in undignified, howling sobs.

It was bad, but the option of bottling it up was worse. He allowed himself a minute or so before he decided he’d burdened Angeal enough, and then he reined himself in. Angeal slowly loosened his grip, and then drew away with a questioning look.

“They’re coming back, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then please, my clothes,” Zack said, snivelling.

Angeal nodded and grabbed him a few tissues from the dispenser above the sink. Angeal respectfully turned away, leaving him to wipe any stray drops of come, wipe his face and blow his nose. He eased himself up to sit at the edge of the table. When he put the weight on his hands to try to lower himself to the floor he could tell they wouldn’t carry him. He lifted one thigh experimentally up, and felt devastated by how heavy it was.

“C-can you please help me get dressed? I don’t think I can manage.” Zack stuttered. He felt so shaky. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so exhausted before.

“Of course,” Angeal replied in an oddly formal tone, revealing himself being stirred out of his own thoughts.

Angeal got his little pile of clothing and put it down on the chair he’d been sitting on. He grabbed the fatigues first, collecting one leg between index finger and thumb before threading it onto Zack’s foot. Then he did the other.

Before he’d gotten to know Angeal, he would have never, ever thought the man had such an accommodating side to his personality. But here he was, kneeling on the floor to help him as if it was nothing. As if it was second nature. In a different situation it might have thrilled him.

The fatigues were pulled up, and there was a terribly embarrassing moment where Angeal’s face was just in front of everything. Angeal straightened up to grab him firmly around the back and lifted enough for Angeal to pull the fatigues up over his hips. He hadn’t been lifted like that since he was a child.

The fatigues without underwear were not amazing, but they were far better than nakedness. They took care not to snag the needle stuck in his arm when Angeal threaded his shirt on. It felt awkward to bend his arm. It made the needle known.

When he was fully dressed, he could feel the last of his strength leaving him. Even though he hated the surgery table, he lifted his legs up on it and leaned back. He didn’t mind the paper tearing now that he was back in his clothes. He’d only close his eyes for a moment.

He could hear the doors open and the dragging of trolleys over the floor, but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. Someone tugged on his arm, and fidgeted around with it but he just let them.

He only bothered to open his eyes when he felt the odd simultaneously cold and burning sensation as it overtook his arm. An IV drip. He’d expected this. Everybody knew about the mako injections.

The further it went on, the higher the burning/freezing sensation travelled, and when it had reached above shoulder height, he reached out to Angeal for support. He’d barely moved at all before Angeal took his hand, stroking soothingly over his knuckles.

Yes it was childish, but he was tired. There was a strange pressure over his chest. It was curious, but he could understand the sensation as the thickness of his blood changed. It felt like his heart had to struggle to pump it around. He gave Angeal’s hand a light squeeze, and felt it given right back. With that, he ignored his discomfort and let himself drift off.

…

The next thing he knew he was coming to on Angeal’s living room sofa. It was still light outside, so he couldn’t have slept that long. Looking around, he found Angeal reading a book just above him. He felt oddly guarded, even though he knew that the demons were far away. On the sixty-fifth floor apparently.

“What now?” Zack croaked, his voice hoarse. He could feel his muscles stiffen more with every second awake.

“Now, I put you back together again, so that you can go again tomorrow, for the remainder of the tests. If that’s what you still want.”

“How?” Zack looked up at Angeal with pleading eyes, not knowing what he needed or wanted.

“I don’t know Zack. I don’t know you well enough. Is there anything you’d prefer? Tea? Should I draw you a bath?” Angeal’s face twisted to a hollow smirk. “Hard liquor?”

It wasn’t the most brilliant of jokes, but it was enough to make Zack snort with weak laughter. It probably would be a nice change of flavour for his mouth.

“I dunno. It’s not like I’ve ever felt like this before.” He made himself sit up properly, trying it out for a while. He changed his mind, drawing his legs towards his chest and hugged them as tight as he could, which still wasn’t tight enough.

“I’m so sorry.” Angeal paused and tensed before he asked. “Would it be alright if I touched you?”

Zack’s eyes flicked to Angeal, his first instinct being fear. Then his eyes focused, reminding him of who was there. With that, he softened and gave a tired nod.

Angeal’s large hand came to rest on his upper back. It’s comforting weight sent a warm shiver through Zack, and he drew an equally shivering breath. On his next exhale some of the tension he’d carried up to now seemed to bleed from him, and silent tears stained his cheeks.

The room stayed quiet, and Angeal stayed still, except for his thumb that rubbed a soft parable over his shirt. He’d thought it would feel embarrassing to cry in front of Angeal after how much weakness he’d already put on display, but really, it only felt good. It underlined how safe he felt with Angeal.

Though he wished he wouldn’t have needed to, he inched himself closer to Angeal’s side. It didn’t have the soothing effect that he’d thought it would. Instead his silent crying turned to pathetic snivels. He could feel how Angeal’s arm slid further around him. He could almost taste Angeal’s protectiveness in the air.

Before he’d even realized it himself, he’d flung himself into Angeal’s arms, his crying turning to loud wails that he tried to muffle by mashing his face into Angeal’s shirt. Arms folded around him like a flesh fortress, so much stronger than his own. They couldn’t stop him from falling apart though.

“Harder, please, harder.” Zack wheezed between wails, and pushed himself as much as he could against Angeal. It should have felt crushing, but Angeal pulling him in tighter made him feel like he could breathe again. Everything that day had been a contradiction just like that, and for that, he’d been utterly unprepared. He let himself feel until Angeal’s warmth snuck into his awareness, altering it, gently changing its focus.

He could feel the warm wetness of his tears, and how his snot glued Angeal’s shirt to his chest. He could feel Angeal’s breath in his hair, steady and gracious. The embrace felt different. More raw in a way that made him feel connected in a way that he hadn’t experienced before. Almost as if he didn’t have any clothes, or any skin for that matter. Perhaps it should have scared him, but instead he found that he liked it.

It wasn’t intentional to put his nose against the crook of Angeal’s neck. It happened when he tried to move his face away from the embarrassing stain on Angeal’s chest. With the next breath Angeal’s scent mixed with something, perfume or aftershave, drifted into his lungs. He shifted a little in place and felt Angeal’s stubble against his temples when Angeal moved to accommodate him. He could see Angeal’s pulse flutter underneath the skin of his neck from the corner of his eye.

He startled, certain that Angeal was finally going to draw away, but instead he just felt Angeal’s thumbs starting to move in a new languid pattern over his back. So, he allowed himself to melt back into the Angeal’s hold of him, focusing on all that closeness, in an attempt to push away the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his own skin.

It was no ungenerous amount of time he was allowed to spend there, in Angeal’s arms, and by the end he was half asleep.

He barely noticed how Angeal’s arms loosened their grip or how his face was gently lifted to face Angeal.

“Zack?”

He noticed when he opened his eyes though. Angeal’s closeness hit him like a freight train, slow and entirely uncompromising. He felt Angeal’s presence tugging at the pit of his stomach, and it was terribly wrong, but he couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Could only fall helplessly into those kind, brown eyes.

“Should I take you to bed?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard the phrase in a similar context. He was sure his mom or dad had done so, many times. This time, it seemed to have an entirely different subtext. Suddenly he became aware of how his hands had fallen to Angeal’s hips, and the warmth radiated into him through his palms.

In the next heartbeat he could feel an unwelcome stir in his groin, and he all but panicked. He managed not to jerk himself away, but drew away slowly, pulling in sharp breaths.

“Zack, what’s wrong?” Angeal’s kind and open face twisted into unchecked concern.

The words stabbed at Zack, making him feel instantly guilty. Not guilty enough to stop drawing away from Angeal though.

“Nothing!” Just his growing erection. Angeal’s hand was on his upper arm now, squeezing in reassurance. Instead of that, it seemed to produce a current from Angeal’s hand to his groin, causing him to keep filling out.

“Please let go of me.” Zack whispered, pained to form the words. Angeal let him go with a flinch, his eyes widening with instant self-doubt.

“It’s fine, thank you. I’m fine.” It was a clumsy attempt to smooth out the damage, but it was all Zack could think of. On a blessed impulse, he thought to reach for the fluffy woolen blanket and drape it around himself, careful to cover any shape that could show through the fatigues.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” Zack mumbled, directing his eyes to the floor. He got up from the sofa as steadily as he could manage without giving Angeal so much as a glance, scurrying to the bathroom where he immediately dropped the blanket to the floor.

He sighed loudly, pressed his hand to the bulge in his fatigues and stared at himself in the mirror. ‘What the hell is wrong with you Zack Fair?! This is a working relationship. What the fuck?!’ he sternly scolded his mirror image with telepathy.

He stepped out of his clothes, prepared the toothbrush and took it with him into the shower. It was something he only did when he was stressed out, when he planned to stay longer in the shower than practicality demanded. There had always been restrictions on water in Gongaga. Brushing his teeth always made him feel better about drawing it out.

The flavor of mint was soothing in its normalcy, and he tried to imagine the water washing all the remaining traces of Hojo’s disgusting, lingering touches away. He forced himself not to think of the coming day. Instead, he focused on Angeal. Not the overwhelming aspect. That, he tried to put firmly behind lock and key. He focused on the simple joy and gratefulness of having such a kind and patient mentor. On the safety he felt with him.

He made himself to stay in the moment while he dried himself with one of Angeal’s luxuriously thick towels, and plucked a set of pajamas from the rack that stacked seven of them for him. Angel had gotten them as a housewarming gift on his first night there. It had been terribly sweet, if a bit awkward, but it had made him feel very welcome.

He let his feet drag along the floors and carpets while he made way back to the sofa where he’d left Angeal. He was still sitting there, now with a cooling cup of tea, tense and seemingly lost in thought.

“I’m going to go to sleep. Thanks Angeal. Thanks for everything. Really…”

“Alright. Is there anything more you need? Water? Tea?”

Zack let out a low-spirited little laugh. “No, I’m fine. You’re fussing.”

Angeal’s face cracked into a small smile, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, looking as if he’d been caught with a prank. “I guess I am. Good night then.”

Zack dragged his feet to his bedroom and lifted a corner of his blanket to slip under it without disturbing it as much as possible, so that it would stay tight over him. He couldn’t remember making it this morning. It must have been Angeal. He sighed and closed his eyes.

It was hardly surprising that Hojo’s image, and the accompanying, overwhelming shame crashed into him immediately. It made him sit up with a jolt, leaving him to stare into the darkness.

Okay, he’d have to sleep sitting up then. That was fine. It could be done. He took the extra pillow and hugged it against his heart that seemed determined to drive him away from sleep. He wished he could have gone for a jog, but it was way too late now.

After an unknown amount of blinking into the darkness, he felt himself drift away, and he laid down again. Big mistake. Another second and he was sitting up with panting breaths, feeling nauseous.

Thirty seconds later he heard a faint knock on the door. “Zack? Zack, I know you’re up. Can I come in?”

Zack’s first reaction was to nod, but then he added a slightly confused “sure” to that. SOLDIER’s didn’t have x-ray vision, did they?

Angeal cracked the door open and peeked in before he stepped forward, lighting the little lamp on the bedside table. He pulled up the padded chair and dragged it to the side of the bed and sat down with a sigh.

“Zack, you need to sleep. I know today was… bad, but you need your strength for tomorrow.”

Zack noticed he was wearing pajamas now, and that worn, old, green robe. Zack had never seen such thick and soft fabric before he moved in with Angeal. He’d touched it in curiosity when it was hanging in the bathroom.

“I know.” Zack paused before he voiced the obvious question. “How did you know?”

Angeal gave a lopsided smile and pointed to one of his ears and meaningfully raised his eyebrows.

“Oh. Okay.” Zack found it hard not to fidget. He wasn’t used to being in bed with other people close. It made him feel vulnerable, and even more so after the day he’d had. At the same time, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Not in Angeal’s company. It was so much better than the unwelcome reminder of Hojo.

“What could help? Food? Tea? Sleeping on the sofa? Would you like to sleep in front of the TV?”

Zack stared helpless and exhausted, at Angeal. They were nice suggestions, but he wanted none of them. He only wanted what he’d had on the sofa. He wanted to be back in that place, so he shook his head.

“What then?”

The conversation lost its rhythm while Zack was contemplating a reply. He couldn’t find a way to convince himself that it was a good idea. Angeal’s eyes seemed to bore holes in him waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know.” He had to say something. The silence was getting to be too much. Not that that was helpful. Angeal’s brows knit in contemplation, and another long pause followed before he spoke next.

“Would… Would you like me to stay here?” Angeal asked quietly, looking very unsure of himself, almost embarrassed.

At first Zack couldn’t believe what he’d heard, but then the relief came like a flood.

“Yes. Yes please.”

“Alright.” Angeal visibly relaxed. “I’ll put the light out?”

“Okay.” Zack felt awkward when he slid down under the blanket again, but that was fine. He would do awkward over invasive memories any time.

For a little bit he felt the muscles of his face strain in a smile, and then he felt them fall. He felt his breathing turn slow and regular, reassured by Angeal being so near.

Until the memories hit him again. The memories of Hojo probing him as if he was an unfeeling animal, his dismissive tone he’d been adressed with, and the incredible, overbearing shame. He sat up in the bed again, panting.

He didn’t need to turn on the light or say anything. Angeal was already doing it.

“Zack?”

Zack stared straight ahead, and then his head turned to Angeal, directing his wild-eyed gaze to his mentor.

“You can’t sit there.” Zack said in a detached way.

“What?”

“You can’t sit there, get up. Stand up!”

Angeal looked confused but stood up anyway. Before Angeal had a chance to stand up and step away completely Zack had closed his hand around Angeal’s arm, stopping him.

“You sat there, in the labs…”

He could see the realization dawning on Angeal’s face.

“I’m sorry, I should have realized,” Angeal mumbled softly.

“It’s not your fault,” Zack said, rapidly calming down, but then freezing again when he found himself in the delicate position of having Angeal leaned over him. But gods, Angeal was a gorgeous man, even when he looked so troubled.

The weight of the situation became too much for Zack, and he felt something in him give way, and he just stopped caring. Without letting go of Angeal’s arm, he leaned over and put out the lamp on the bedside table. Then he scooted over to the opposite side of the bed, and pulled Angeal down towards the mattress.

“Zack?”

Okay, it wasn’t scolding. Admonishing perhaps, but in a soft way. In a way that Zack already realised he could push past, so he pulled a little more intently, until he felt the bed dip with Angeal’s weight next to him.

“Please, please help me,” Zack whispered, groping for Angeal’s arms, shoving the comforter down enough to be able to thread Angeal’s arms around himself. Whatever objections Angeal’d had, they shattered with that plea.

“I’m so sorry Zack. I should have done something. I should have warned you, broken the rules…”

“No.” Zack shook his head against Angeal’s chest. No, he wanted to do this right.

“You don’t have to go back.” Angeal’s voice sounded rough when he made the suggestion.

Zack turned his head up to see the full reflexiveness of Angeal’s eyes. They gleamed like a cat’s, but the light broke differently in them, making it seem as if they glowed on their own. It was as eerie as it was beautiful.

“Is there another way to make SOLDIER?”

Angeal looked away, which Zack could only tell because of the disappearance of the green glimmer.

“No.”

“Then I’m going back.”

“Alright,” Angeal murmured softly. Zack could feel the curious effect of breathing easier in Angeal’s embrace again. He couldn’t fail to notice the respectable amount of distance between their lower bodies, and how Angeal lay on his side of the bed on top of the comforter without any indication of getting under it.

“I want this.” Zack mumbled sleepily, but full of conviction. He’d meant to say it about the SOLDIER program, but as soon as the words slipped, he noticed there might be a double meaning to them.

Angeal hummed low and Zack felt what he thought was Angeal’s nose in his hair. Okay, a certain double meaning then, he thought, forced to admit that the space between them was needed. He really wanted it didn’t he? And that was his last thought before drifting off to sleep.

…

When he woke up, the first thing he noticed was toeing the line of being too warm, but not crossing it. It made him feel exceedingly reluctant to open his eyes. He could tell faint morning light was straining in through the sheer curtains of his room from the shade of red his eyelids provided. The blinds must have been the very last thing on any of their minds yesterday.

He struggled to become aware enough to take inventory from his senses. He was lying comfortably on his side. Something was diverting his breath. It changed direction to stir strands of hair against his face. It tickled slightly. The air he took in was too warm too, heated by skin? He could smell it. Not by any scent or odor, but like a glow in the air. Warmth was radiating into him from under his neck too.

It all made him feel so terribly nostalgic, in a way that made his heart ache, because the memories of the day before came to him then. They made a painful contrast, so he shifted closer to the wall of warmth in front of him.

“You awake?” Angeal’s voice was scarcely more than a whisper, deep and soothing. He only groaned reluctantly as a reply, wishing to borrow Angeal’s invulnerability for just a little bit longer.

Angeal chuckled softly, the sound resonating through him, all the way to the soft marrow of his bones. Gentle fingertips pressed into his scalp, drawing long lines along his skull that sent shivers down his spine. He could feel the touch gently waking his nervous system up in a way he certainly wasn’t used to. It fought off the immediate anxiety of the day that was ahead of him. Still, his stomach turned, and another fidgety kind of groan left him.

“You can still change your mind. I won’t hold it against you.” Angeal said in a way that completely lacked admonishment. In fact, it almost sounded hopeful. That made Zack feel confused, and he opened his eyes then, to get more cues to what made Angeal sound like that.

And in the next moment, Zack could feel his whole world shift. It was as if he saw Angeal for the very first time. How could he not have noticed the blinding beauty of the man? Every line of his face conveyed such sincere kindness, it was unimaginable to think that the man was essentially a killing machine made of flesh, bone and mako.

He’d asked his mother what it was like falling in love, many years ago. She’d given him an answer then that he hadn’t understood at the time. She’d told him it was like believing in the gods. Some people did, and some didn’t, but the ones who did, they just knew the gods were real. There was no proof, nothing tangible needed, they just woke up one morning and knew.

And in that precise moment, it made perfect sense to Zack. Shinra, and being a hero, perhaps he’d been wrong about that. But here Gaia presented him entirely different reasons to endure the trials. Looking into Angeal’s hazel eyes, he thought he could take them on a thousand times over, if he could wake up to this again.

It was still too early to form words, so he merely shook his head lightly on Angeal’s arm. The stubble had grown noticeably overnight, and on a mindless whim Zack reached out to trace Angeal’s jaw. Angeal was so close. The skin against stubble made a funny noise. Apparently he must have made an appropriately funny face, because Angeal chuckled softly.

Then he did something that Zack didn’t predict. Angeal returned the gesture, turning more fully to his side to trace Zack’s jaw right back. Zack felt like the world stopped. His first thought was that he never wanted the moment to end. His second, that it wasn’t enough.

The duvet was mostly stuffed between them, shielding his growing desire from Angeal’s knowledge, and allowing him to dream that it was reciprocated. He pressed himself even closer to Angeal, expecting the man to somehow give him a sign if he crossed lines he shouldn’t.

But nothing happened. Angeal’s hazel eyes, speckled with emerald green, kept their quiet sparkling, and though he looked serious, a smile was still playing in the lines of his face. Zack could feel himself getting drawn in as surely as gravity kept them on Gaia.

Before he knew what he was doing, he had leaned in to press his lips against that stubbled jaw. Time stopped again, in an excruciating, endless moment where Zack expected to be pushed away. He could feel his lips getting prickled. It wasn’t pleasant in a way that he’d learned to like, but the sensation made his throat close up with emotion. It caused a little embarrassing whine to make its escape through his nose.

It was his embarrassment that broke the moment, and he recoiled as if his lips had suddenly burned, ashamed and overtaken with worry as to what his actions would mean for Angeal’s future mentoring of him.

Mortified, he searched Angeal’s face for clues, but was only met by the same, steady, patient smile. Perhaps it was a bit sadder now, but that was all.

“I’m sorry,” Zack mumbled, all traces of sleepiness replaced by guilt and shame. “I’m so sorry.”

“Ssh.”

Careful fingers still pressed into his scalp, and immediately took the edge off of the worst of his fears. They threatened to pull him in again. Determined to keep that from happening, Zack forced himself to turn away from Angeal entirely. He was careful to let his lower body follow before he tossed the duvet off and made his way to the bathroom, hiding his arousal.

But gods, it had been the best morning of his life. He looked at himself in the mirror and scoffed. It certainly didn’t show. The whites of his eyes were reddened, and the skin on his face was puffy. Perhaps Angeal had gone along with him out of pity? He certainly looked pitiable.

His nerves made a quick job out of the shower and getting dressed. He strode out to the kitchen where Angeal was busy preparing bouillon for him. It was the only thing he was allowed to ‘eat’ before today’s tests. He couldn’t make himself sit down at the table, but walked up to Angeal on cautious steps. He felt like he was sneaking up to some frightened animal, trying not to scare it, which was entirely absurd.

“Angeal?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to hold it against me?” He assumed he didn’t need to specify that he was talking about the almost-kiss.

Angeal put down the wooden spoon, lifted the pot off of the fire and turned to Zack with a patient, knowing smile.

“No. Should I?”

Zack frowned, blindsided by the question. He had to process it to even understand it. His eyebrows rose with surprise when he did. “No!”

“Are you sure? You’re looking mighty guilty over there.”

Zack could feel heat rising from his neck and up. “’Course I’m sure,” he mumbled, fidgeting with his uniform shirt. He couldn’t wait to get a SOLDIER one. It looked so much more comfortable than the infantry one he was wearing now.

“And would you hold it against me, that I didn’t turn you away?”

“Ugh! You’re joking, right?” Zack groaned, too embarrassed to properly reflect on Angeal’s question. He had to do something else, shift the focus, so he leaned in front of Angeal to pour the boring looking broth into a large cup. Angeal hummed, apparently content to put the topic to rest.

Zack drank his breakfast sullenly. At least he was allowed something before the labs this time.

The walk down the corridors felt longer than the day before, now that he knew more about what to expect. But Angeal’s hand on his shoulder kept him walking straight, for now.

The tension bled off of them both in the waiting room this morning. They both knew they had a long day ahead of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the name Angeal was used 345 in this fic up to this point xD. Oh Zack!
> 
> As always, feedback, comments, praise and suggestions are always very very welcome!
> 
> Are you perhaps feeling starved for discussing ff7 smut? Me and my fellow writer SonicoSenpai run a ff7 ao3 smut-discussion channel on discord. Feel free to join in! We aim to be inclusive to queer and trans, and welcome readers or writers alike.  
> You can email me for an invite. Email in profile.


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